Long Live All The Magic We Made
by sydneysages
Summary: Because we all fall in love, sometimes in oh so sinful ways. 11. ClaireMyrnin. 12. AmelieOliver. 13. ShaneMonica. 14. AmelieMyrnin. /REQUEST PAIRINGS FOR DRABBLES.
1. Secrets

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

_For Maddie, the dear girl who seems to dislike me at times for my editing powers._

* * *

><p><em><strong>12<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__ClaireMichael__**  
><strong>__Secrets  
>extras: Long Live (by Taylor Swift) <em>

* * *

><p><em>~x~<em>

It's wrong, oh so wrong, what they're doing, but they can't help it simply because it's what they want and happiness is key in Morganville.

She's cheating on someone she thought she had a connection with that ran so deep it could never be broken; he's cheating on the girl he's had a crush on since before they left high school.

Claire and Michael, two star crossed lovers who know just how wrong this is, yet have no means of stopping because it's just so irresistible.

He's the one for her, she knows as he kisses her softly, causing feelings inside of her that Shane has never managed. He shines so brightly and she can't see why she didn't see this before they were already with other people.

Everyone has secrets…yet few people have ones as dangerous as these two do.

~x~

_Don't__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Request pairings and I'll write them._

_Vicky xx_


	2. Boots

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

_For Hannah & thanks to Yellow14 for the pairing._

* * *

><p><em><strong>13<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__EveMichael__**  
><strong>__Boots  
>extras: scarf, desolation, leather jacket, puffs of smoke <em>

* * *

><p><em>~x~<em>

She tightens the scarf around her neck as she shivers involuntarily, the vicious December wind biting against her bare skin. Yet her other hand moves to grasp onto Michael's tighter, there being no particular warmth there, yet merely a feeling of strength.

Her heavy Doc Marten boots leaving indelible – for the moment, at least – marks in the snow, they walk slowly towards Sam's grave, a feeling of desolation in the air. And as she turns to Michael, she can see the tears in his eyes, see the pain there at the loss of Sam.

"Hey, baby, it's alright," she whispers to him, relinquishing her hold on her scarf as she moves to cradle his face in her hand. "You've got me, remember? I'm going nowhere, I _promise_," her voice cracks as he scoops her into a hug, tighter than before.

She buries her face in the leather jacket she vaguely recognises as Sam's and closes her eyes as she wishes for everything to be over, for them all to be happy again.

But whilst they're happy as a couple, she has a feeling that they're never going to be completely happy again.

~x~

* * *

><p><em>why do I always end up writing about Sam?<em>

_Don't__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it._

_Vicky xx_


	3. Summer

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

* * *

><p><em><strong>14<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__HannahRichard__**  
><strong>__Summer  
>extras: jigsaw, kitten, harbour.<em>

* * *

><p><em>~x~<em>

Summer rolls around as per usual and it's the safest time of the year for humans; the longer days means there is less time for open terrorism of the humans by the vampires, meaning they have a period of relative calm.

Whilst other people would most likely use their powers with Amelie to escape Morganville for a short holiday, neither Hannah nor Richard want to do this: they're quite content to sunbathe in the garden, complete a jigsaw, play a game of scrabble.

It makes them sound so old, yet they don't really care because this is what couples in love _do_: they have no need for gimmicks, no need to try and impress someone just to make them seem better than what they are.

They're the only _truly_ happy human couple in the entire town of Morganville, ones who know what they could lose and therefore strive to look on the bright side of life.

After all, does it _really_ hurt to be an optimist?

~x~

* * *

><p><em>Aww, I feel really sorry for this pairing as it's never, <em>ever_ written._

_Don't__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it._

_Vicky xx_


	4. Electric

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

_This one is dedicated to all of you in RS.F, because I love you all, even if you're not up to the point where I shall allow you to read this drabble for fear of spoliers._

* * *

><p><em><strong>14<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__AmelieOliver (Ameliver)__**  
><strong>__Electric  
>extras: swish, whitewash, neon.<em>

* * *

><p><em>~x~<em>

The tension in the air is almost electrostatic, laden with feelings as yet unspoken, and Amelie can't begin to sort her thoughts into a legible order in her own mind.

Oliver takes a step closer and she swishes her hair over her shoulder in an attempt to move away from it all, to disengage from the emotions she ought never to feel again after Sam.

Yet she's failed at this, quite blatantly, given how her body is reacting to the closeness of Oliver.

She _tried_ to whitewash the feelings she has harboured here for so many years, yet she didn't succeed. She tried to hide them from herself, to honour Sam's memory forevermore, until she remembered that it was him who left _her_, not the other way around, and then she decided that she would allow herself to be happy.

"Amelie," all he has to do is say her name and all walls between them have fallen into piles of cinders. "Amelie, I-" as he goes to continue, she reaches out gently and presses a finger to his lips, her eyes filling with tears.

"Don't," she whispers, "Don't say that, Oliver, because then how can this be?"

He knows she loves Sam, that she loves them _both_ equally, so he does what Sam was never bold enough to do; he reaches out and presses his lips against hers forcefully and allows her to see why this is such an ingenious idea, why it will work so well between them.

She smiles as he moves away a fraction, yet doesn't say a word. And this is where they begin, an electric feeling between them that cannot be quantified with words.

As then it would have to be compared to her and Sam, something she refuses to do.

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span>__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it._

_Vicky xx_


	5. Wonderland

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

_For Alice, watching stiricide, because it's got her name in it_

* * *

><p><em><strong>15<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__ClaireOliver __**  
><strong>__Wonderland  
>extras: rabbit; sword.<em>

* * *

><p><em>~x~<em>

She's in her element, in her wonderland – just like Alice – as his hand snakes around her waist in an illicit manner, something that shouldn't be happening but it _is_. He's so much older than her and it's wrong, yet she doesn't care.

They'll deal with the blow the sword will bring when they're found out.

There's almost an essence of fear about them, about whether she'll be discovered to be in almost _love_ with the most gnarled and ferocious vampire, whether he'll be discovered to be infatuated by a human who has caused nothing but trouble.

They're like rabbits caught in the headlights of a car, startled fawns running through the fields when a gun is shot, fleeing squirrels when a fox is nearby – there's no way for them to escape the knowledge that what they're doing is _wrong_.

Yet it doesn't stop her smiling as his lips press against her own, doesn't stop her feeling the rush that comes about from the forbidden nature of what she's doing.

After all, she's like _Alice in wonderland_, on an adventure in places anew, and she's no need to be regretful of her actions because they leave her happy.

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span>__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it._

_Vicky xx_


	6. Cross

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

_For Dannie. _

_And Anonymous, my name __**was**__ vicky199416, but I changed it :)_

* * *

><p><em><strong>17<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__EveMyrnin __**  
><strong>__Cross  
>extras: mask; flail; star; Southern.<em>

* * *

><p><em>~x~<em>

The mask of lace covers her eyes to obscure her identity to all humans, yet he knows who she is instantly – she's Eve Rosser, the only person in Morganville who seems to accept his fashion sense.

It's not a simple mask, however, it's purpose not to merely obscure her identity at this particular masked ball: the decoration of intricately designed crosses means to throw insult at the vampires who litter the room.

He should be offended, yet he really isn't; she's sarcastic and witty, a girl after his own heart, and he moves to take her hand to dance with her.

She's well aware of who it is as she accepts, her eyes moving approvingly over his rather exuberant outfit, and she smiles despite herself as he begins to spin her round flamboyantly through the air.

The pallor of her skin contrasts perfectly with the darkness of her hair, of the colour of her ebony ball gown, and yet there's almost a golden aura coming off her; she's like his little Southern star, someone with the wit he's admired for so long, in accordance with her style sense.

They come to a halt, Eve breathing heavily, and Myrnin moves slowly to lift the mask from her eyes, to reveal her identity, even though he already knows who she is. The chase has been exhilarating, a beautiful event, but...

_Game over._

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span>__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it._

_Vicky xx_


	7. Hurts Like Heaven

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

_For Vitzy as she said this pairing…but HAH!_

_(sorry guys, this aint even a drabble, it's ridiculously long!)_

* * *

><p><em><strong>18<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__SamOC__**  
><strong>__Hurts like Heaven  
>extras: Daylight, Major Minus, Square One.<br>(__**Theme: Coldplay. Prompts are not necessarily quoted in this fic)**_

* * *

><p><em>~x~<em>

It hurts more than anything, to have a broken heart. It hurts more than anything to be in love with a woman who he _knows_ loves him back, yet doesn't do anything to begin to show it.

He's left sitting in Common Grounds every day, going out during in daylight hours because it helps him to feel as if he fits in more, with the crowd he ought to be with. As he should be aging now, be in his seventies, yet there's never going to be the chance to grow old, is there?

There's a girl who sits in the coffee shop every day as well; she's called Linda Monroe and she's got no purpose there; he knows her history – she's got no parents, no job, no Protector, and she's only living still because Amelie donated her a vast sum of money.

"Hi," he goes over to talk to her one day, deciding that if he can do something to change someone's life, it's better than him just wasting his life sitting there in his usual glum mood. "I'm-" he begins to introduce himself but she cuts him off.

"I know who you are," she mutters, her face seeming to slip into a scowl as he moves closer. "Sam bloody Glass, someone who gets involved everywhere he can," she continues and he's wanting to leave, but he can't because he promised himself that he'd try to help her.

After all, he doesn't want to go back to square one, wondering what to do with his life since there's no way that Amelie's going to let her close to him _now_, is there?

"Well you're alone and so am I and I wondered if you'd want to talk," he shrugs as he sits down opposite her, not taking no for an answer. "How are you?"

She doesn't answer, merely takes another sip of her drink until it's empty.

"You know you're not going to be able to drink that forever, you know," he refers to drinking the drink in general, watching as her eyebrows rise. He's aware she's probably well in the know about his love for Amelie, so it shouldn't come as a surprise to her that he's preaching. "Amelie isn't going to give you limitless money forever, you know. It's a guilt thing, I bet you one thousand dollars, and you're going to find yourself without _anything_ sooner or later," his eyes narrow as he looks at her, trying to see if she's going to rise to this.

But she merely shrugs. "Whatever, Sam, my life sucks anyway so who cares if it's cut shorter?" but he can see the quiver behind her eyes, see the fault in her 'limitless' confidence.

"That's your choice, Linda," he stands up and decides that he's done enough. "Just remember that I'm here if you want to talk."

.

Three weeks later, there's a knock on his door in the middle of the night and he goes to find the girl standing there, fear rising in her eyes.

"There's someone after me," she whispers and he lets her straight into the flat and slams the door behind her, bolting it and ensuring there's no way the predator can enter. He's not exactly the strongest vampire, after all.

She sits on the sofa without asking, bolshy as ever, yet he doesn't care because evidently she's got concerns if she's came to talk to _him_…at least she's taken him up on his offer.

"Don't say anything," she mutters as he opens his mouth. "You were right, ok? It's not limitless; she's not going to give me it forever."

He nods slowly yet doesn't say a word and the room lapses into silence, awkward as he wants to try and persuade her to sort her life out but he knows she won't listen.

"Why do you love her, anyway?" she comes out with the question and he's startled, having to think about how to answer it for a second.

"She's…different to what you've seen," he decides is the best way to answer. "She's got a heart that's got more emotion than the two of us put together. There's a strength in her that keeps us safe, keeps _me_ safe from her enemies, and I know I owe my whole life to her."

Linda nods slowly and stands up in a movement opposite to the speed of her nodding, fast and jerky. "Well, he'll have gone. Sorry to waste your time." and then she's leaving the flat before he can even begin to understand what's going on.

"WAIT!" he calls after her, running to the door and to the lift even though it's already gone. So he turns and looks out of the window to see her running down the path towards the direction of her housing estate, and he can only hope she gets there.

After all, she turned his help down twice.

.

He's called to the scene of the dumping later that night, and sees the pallor of her skin, the two bite marks in her neck, and he knows he could have stopped this.

If it wasn't for Amelie, he would have.

And, for the first time since he fell in love with her, a tiny bit of him hates Amelie.

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span>__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it._

_Vicky xx_


	8. Dodgeball

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

* * *

><p><em><strong>19<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__EveShane__**  
><strong>__Dodgeball  
>extras: protective; fluorescent; liquorice; certificate<em>

* * *

><p>~x~<p>

They're playing dodgeball as they do this, playing with fire as they have their secret trysts whenever Claire and Shane are out. Eve entices him so, her badass attitude and wit things that allow him to be himself without having to worry about making sure he doesn't offend someone.

With Eve, he can say whatever the hell he wants and when, because she doesn't care – just like she could tell him she has plans to kill every vampire in town and he would merely ask her if she wanted another kiss.

They're both aware that it's wrong, that she shouldn't know how he tastes of liquorice and he shouldn't be even _more_ protective of Claire than he already is just to try and alleviate his guilt.

(Little does he know that she's not loved him for months, and is feeling guilt about the same thing with her boss)

They both know they ought to stop every time that they steal a kiss in a corner, trade weapons in their secret romances in the dark; they need a fluorescent light shining on them, showing their affair to the world, yet neither of them want that.

They _like_ the secrecy, like the way that they can do this and have no responsibilities, merely friends with benefits, yet leaning towards a full, deep relationship.

Both of them are players, cheaters, liars, and the sad thing?

Neither of them care.

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span>__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it: besides ClaireShane or MyrninAda._

_Vicky xx_


	9. Care

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

* * *

><p><strong><em>20th November 2011<br>_**_EveMichael**  
><strong>Care  
>extras: Soup; Bookshelf; Drink me.<em>

* * *

><p>~x~<p>

Blood pours out of the wound on her arm as Eve staggers away, crashing into Claire's bookcase and knocking a mound of Myrnin's books off it. The tears that stream down her face aren't to do with the pain, no, they're more to do with the fact that they were caused by _Michael_.

Michael, her beautiful, amazing, kind boyfriend caused them. Michael, the vampire, caused them, not Michael the angel – but they're the same thing now, aren't they?

"Eve, let me explain," his tone is soft, caring almost, but she flinches away from his touch because _he_ did this. Him, with his oh-so-innocent appearance and sweet words did this to her. Not anyone else – _him_.

"Stay away from me," she snarls, her good arm knocking his favourite mug with "drink me" on it to the floor, allowing it to shatter into tiny smithereens, fragments of something something once loved..

Just like her heart.

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span> fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it: besides ClaireShane or MyrninAda._

_Vicky xx_


	10. Forgiveness

_A series of drabbles for all pairings, from the prompts on RoseScorpius Fans Forum in the HP realm._

_But I nabbed them for here._

_I shan't be doing every day between today and 21st November, because I have too many to catch up on._

* * *

><p><em><strong>21<strong>__**th**__** November 2011  
><strong>__ClaireOliver  
>Forgive(ness)<br>extras: bouquet of roses; apologise; rain._

* * *

><p>~x~<p>

There's something so wrong about this relationship, something that's so twisted and dangerous that it almost makes it right – they're different, unique in a way, and he thinks he may almost love her now.

There's no need for forgiveness as his fangs slip into her neck, because she _told_ him to – the sweet girl _told_ him he could drink her blood because she trusts him now, she trusts that Oliver won't hurt her.

He's sure that he won't because his inanimate heart tells him that he shouldn't, that there shouldn't be the need for him to apologise to her, merely because he won't hurt her.

And so the blood rains down into his mouth from her throat, the sweet, incandescent taste of her blood causing him to crave more and more, ignoring her cries for him to stop.

Because he's Oliver and she's Claire, a lowly human in the running order of things, and so why would he listen to her?

(But later, as he clutches her lifeless body close to him, he realises he must beg for forgiveness, desire it more than anything because, after all that, he killed her. Because he's a vampire, remember?)

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span>__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_Will update again shortly._

_Request a pairing & receive it: besides ClaireShane or MyrninAda._

_Vicky xx_


	11. Redemption

_Ok, so now, I'm just writing pairings and using random prompts that come to me, rather than using RoseScorpius Fans Forum's prompts [as I never update the thread, oops]_

_ClaireMyrnin  
>Redemption<em>

* * *

><p>~x~<p>

All he wants is a chance for redemption, a chance for him to prove that he didn't _mean_ to try and hurt her, that they have the opportunity to be something amazing – because he never intended for her life to be in danger. It was never meant to be _that_ serious, no matter what she thinks.

And so he calls her and he texts her things that don't quite make sense because he can't work whatever this new fangled contraption is, because she's stopped coming to work with him. _"She's scared to come back to you,"_ he can remember Amelie saying, _"don't quote me, and never dare use this to your advantage, Myrnin, but I fear that she believes working with you could bring to the surface feelings that she desires to keep silent from even her conscious mind."_

They're words of comfort to him, at least, because they prove that he at least has a chance with her.

But, right now, he would settle for the chance to say that he's sorry, and that if he could only work with her again, he would never be anything other than professional.

(He hopes, anyway.)

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span>__ fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_If you request a pairing, I'll write it._

_Vicky xx_


	12. Jealousy

_Written for an application for an RP on tumblr._

**_AmelieOliver  
>Jealousy<em>**

* * *

><p><em><em>

_~x~_

He still doesn't understand how he's fallen for her; he doesn't understand how he's gone from despising Amelie's guts to finding himself unable to confess the feelings inside of him: only last year, he would have quite happily severed her head from her body, and now…now he doesn't know _how_ to feel. Part of him wants her destroyed, so that she can never hurt him the way she has done before, and the rest of him wants to tell her how he feels, so that she can consider loving someone alive, rather than focusing just on Sam.

Intermingled with the alien, strange, confusing emotion of love, there's jealousy: he's _jealous_ of Sam, because Amelie will never stop loving him, even when a millennia has passed – and Oliver knows that he'll never hold a position in anyone's heart like this. He's not important to anyone, not really, and that leaves him wishing that Sam had never existed, because then Amelie could be _his_.

(He tries to forget that he almost destroyed her in the past, and that their love/hate relationship has barely evolved into whatever it could be called now.)

And even as he tries to make himself confess how he feels, he can't, because that would be showing weakness, and he's never been good at that, has he? Showing Amelie that he loves her could be what leads to his downfall – and, like the blonde princess he lusts for, avoiding downfall is the key to his plans for eternal life. So even though he doesn't _want_ to love her, he does, and it's all he can do not to let her know…because then, she would hold all the cards in their game, and that's something he can never allow.

Right?

~x~

* * *

><p><em><span>Don't<span> fav/alert without reviewing please & thanks._

_If you request a pairing, I'll write it._

_Vicky xx_


	13. Encounter

**_ShaneMonica  
>Encounter<em>**

* * *

><p>She never thought that she would encounter Shane Collins when he was willing to even talk to her, let alone do anything more.<p>

Then again, she thinks, they are in a bar full of lost, desperate souls, most of whom are so drunk that they don't recognise themselves, let alone anyone else.

"Monica!" Shane slurs, handing her a beer as she takes the bar stool next to him—he's rather sexy, something she's always appreciated yet does even more so when she's inebriated—and smiling. "I've always wanted to sleep with you, you know," he continues, and the one sober part of Monica is screaming, NO, DON'T DO IT, DON'T SLEEP WITH HIM; HE ONLY WANTS YOU BECAUSE HE SPLIT WITH DANVERS.

The rest of her is willing to do whatever he wants—because she wants it, too.

So Monica finds her lips on Shane's three drinks later, his wandering hands making her realise that it's time for them to leave and find a more…_appropriate_ location, and that happens to be the seedy hotel next door.

As Shane rips off her dress and she tells him how hot she thinks he is, it's ok; they're only Shane and Monica, two people who fancy the other—they're not Shane and Monica, long term enemies due to a misconception about who burned down a particular house.

Understanding the blurred lines of their one time hate-hate relationship will be saved for the morning, for when they're sober—for now, they're in-sync.

* * *

><p>Don't favourite or alert without reviewing, please &amp; thanks.<p>

Feel free to request a pairing-preferably a less common one!


	14. Candle

**_AmelieMyrnin  
><em>Candle **

I'd like to explain this one's setting really quickly. My headcanon is that, in the past, way before they even met Oliver, Amelie and Myrnin had a trip to Italy, and during this trip, they were 'dating'. I use that term loosely (I'm sure you can tell what I'm referring to) but that when their trip ended, their relationship returned to them being merely friends. That's why this is set there.

(And now my explanation is ridiculously long.)

* * *

><p>The walls of Verona loom before them, dark and oppressive, and though they both know that they could scale the walls—or, most likely, burst through them—neither of them have this desire.<p>

Neither of them want this evening to end; it's their second-to-last day in the country of Italy, and therefore it's the second-to-last day of this relationship they have, as per their unspoken agreement: a holiday romance to allow the feelings they have for one another out, so that the rest of their lives can be spent together as _friends_, without the question of what could have been.

"What are you thinking of?" Myrnin asks Amelie quietly as they stop still under the wall in a place where it's covered in luscious red roses. "What troubles you, my sweet Amelie?" he continues, tracing her face with his finger.

She sighs ever so slightly, pulling from his embrace to continue their walk back towards the town, and their home—their home for the next two days, at least. "I don't want the trip to end," she confesses, her voice barely more than a whisper. "It has been so beautiful, Myrnin, and I don't think that I can ever look at Paris in the same light, not after this splendour!"

Myrnin knows how she feels; their home in Paris is nothing compared to the elegance of the summer house they acquired for two months, yet they have had good memories there, also, something he hastens to remind her.

Amelie falls silent for the rest of their walk in the rural area of Verona, her fingers entwined with Myrnin's—for what reason, he cannot tell: does she want protection, or is it merely a way to allow her to grasp onto the vestiges of their summer romance?

She speaks as they pass a church, a group singing outside, their hands filled with flickering candles, each one to pay respect to a lost member of the town. As they pass, Amelie hands over a small amount of money and takes one from the person in charge, murmuring that she has lost someone close to her, and wants to pay her respects.

They don't consider that she could be lying.

"Our holiday is like this candle," she muses as they walk, one hand still wrapped into Myrnin's, the other holding the candle. Her eyes are on it, gazing intently into its flame, and Myrnin half wonders if she's planning on committing some sort of self-harm when she continues. "It burns, and as it does, it burns so brightly…but it can be put out with just one breath, just one gust of even a weak wind—just like us, in Italy, Myrnin. We have burned so brightly together, during this time, and yet it will end with one word: home. We are ending it so suddenly, and I don't want to go."

As she blows out the candle, Myrnin turns Amelie to face him, and he notices that her eyes are filled with tears. "Italy will remain in our hearts forever," he promises her, taking the candle from her and placing it in his pocket, "we will just return to how we are supposed to be: friends. Though I cannot say that we cannot burn brightly _this_ evening; after all, our romance remains active, does it not?"

Amelie smiles as they walk back to their home, wondering if, perhaps, Myrnin is right, and that this isn't really the end—not at all.

* * *

><p>Please don't favourite or alert without reviewing-and if you review, feel free to leave a request for a pairingprompt!


	15. Confusion

**_MichaelJennifer_  
>Confusion <strong>

* * *

><p>It's doesn't seem right for him to notice Jennifer Anderson; she's the best friend of the psychopathic Monica Morrell, and she's made his friends' lives a living hell.<p>

It _does_ seem right for her to notice Michael Glass; he's been good looking since they were children, and who cares that he's a vampire? She doesn't, anyway…and anyhow, she isn't like Monica.

So when they meet in a club where he's been playing, and she's leaning against him, it's too hard for him to think of Eve, to remember what he is and what Jennifer's friends are like; she's interested, he's interested, so that's it.

He still feels confusion though, when their lips press together, when his hands run up her body and they move into the corner of the club, because this isn't what's meant to happen: he _shouldn't_ be here. All he's doing is proving the theory that musicians feel the need to go sleep with whomever they come across, because he _hates_ this girl, doesn't he?

(He actually doesn't know; he knows he hates Monica, and that he hates Gina and Jennifer by association. That's all.)

"We can't tell anyone about this," he mutters against her lips, and Jennifer nods – or at least he thinks she does. "It can never happen again."

**…**

The next time he plays the club, Eve doesn't come again.

But Jennifer's there.

* * *

><p>Please don't favourite or alert without reviewing!<p>

request a pairing/prompt and I'l write it for you.


End file.
